


For the Good of All Mankind

by Auzzie



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I guess it's pre-slash, M/M, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Sick Bucky Barnes, Sickfic, but they love each other - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-11 07:45:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15967844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auzzie/pseuds/Auzzie
Summary: Steve knew how to help with this. He had years of experience under his belt.





	For the Good of All Mankind

“Scoot.”

When Bucky didn't budge, Steve decided it was time to deploy his secret weapon. He promised his friend to only use this ability for the good of mankind, and in Steve's opinion, a functional Bucky was vital to mankind. So he posed his sharp, bony elbows above his friend and formed his lips around a silent apology. Then he jabbed Buck in the side until he rolled over with a groan.

“You're a monster,” Bucky rasped. He peered over at Steve through squinted eyes.

“It's in your best interest,” Steve said. “Talk to me.”

The larger of the young men groaned again.

“Did you leave work early?” Steve's thin, ever-chilled hand came up to feel Bucky's forehead for fever. His frown deepened and he pulled away.

“Nah,” grunted Bucky. Suddenly, he lurched to the side, away from Steve, and coughed raggedly into his pillow.

“Heaven forbid you take care of yourself,” Steve said when he was done.

“I learned it from the best guy I know.”

“Hey, I _choose_ to get into fights,” said Steve, crossing their tiny bedroom to open the window by his own cot. Ignoring the mumbled, _'Stupid.'_ from his friend, he continued, “You can't help being sick.”

“We need the money.” Bucky shrugged as much as he could lying down.

Steve returned to his side. “So I'll put in extra hours at town hall. Sal's always happy to shove his work on me. Plus, Georgia would be glad to see me around more often.”

Bucky grimaced. Georgia Lee-Price always looked at poor Steve like she wanted to gobble him up. Fortunately, she worked in a different office, and visited the town hall only a day or two a week, but it still put Bucky on edge to know she was ogling the kid.

Then, a latent thought struck him. “What if you get sick, too? You shouldn't even be near me right now. Shit, Steve—“

“We'll deal with that when it happens,” his friend. The way he said it was firm, but soothing. He nudged Bucky's thigh, wearing a small smirk. “I'm gonna need you healthy to take care of me, right?”

Bucky tried not to notice the blond's use of 'when', rather than 'if'. Instead, he released a sigh so deep and wary it left him curling over to in another coughing fit.

In that time, Steve must have darted out of the room, because when Bucky looked up, he was being gently positioned to swallow a spoonful of cough syrup. His body desperately wanted to reject it, have him spit it over the side of the bed, but it was expensive enough that he couldn't justify wasting it because of taste alone.

Much more accustomed to the thick elixir, Steve knew to follow it up with a surprisingly liberal scoop of sugar. He suspected it was because Bucky had a lower tolerance for such medicine.

Once the worst of it was over and chased with the sugar, Bucky gave the other boy a look. “That stuff's supposed to be for emergencies only.”

“You're sick. _You._ The healthy one. If this isn't an emergency, then I don't know what is.”

“How about you being unable to breathe at two in the morning because your airways are all messed up? Or when you're so sick you can hardly move?” Steve noticed that, for the first time since he got home, awareness was accumulating behind Buck's eyes as he spoke with more insistence. “I need all the help I can get to—to _help you,_ Steve. You don't understand how hard it is to watch you on the verge of _death_ at least twice a year.”

He had to take a minute to breathe after his emphatic outburst. He chanced a glance at Steve, still sitting on the edge of his bed. The blond didn't look offended, just apologetic. Even still, he said, “It's not exactly my favorite pastime, either, Buck.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Sorry, Steve.”

“Don't worry about it.” A soft look was sent Bucky's way. “Just let me take care of you for once.”

Bucky deflated back into his pillow. He found the hand Steve was using to prop himself up on the cot with his own larger, clammier one, giving it a squeeze.

“That stuff is godawful. If I had to take that all the time, I would've kicked the bucket years ago.”

The fond smile Steve aimed at him said he heard Bucky's 'thank you' loud and clear.

 


End file.
